


What We Do When The Fighting Stops

by Lisbeth_laufeyson



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Healing, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisbeth_laufeyson/pseuds/Lisbeth_laufeyson
Summary: Spartacus is gravely wounded, but the quick thinking of Nasir and Agron saves his life. Devoid of Spartacus' leadership while he recuperates, the bloody mantle of command falls upon the shoulders of Nasir and Agron to vary degrees of success.Once Spartacus returns to strength, the three of them must navigate the new landscape of their lives. As physical scars heal the mental ones remain and may prove strong enough to destroy what battle could not.By the time battle is joined once more with the Roman's it is three very different men leading the charge.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 21





	1. Seared Flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deirana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deirana/gifts).



> I have an idea of how this may go but i am keeping the tags out for surprise sake, and just in case it doesn't go that way. I have a feeling most of you will figure it out before it gets to that point though and, possibly, most of you may not be happy with it. its an idea that won't leave me alone atm though.
> 
> This is a gift for Deirana, who wished for a fic where Spartacus survives and goes on to make new plans with Nasir and Agron. I hope you like it. and as you probably guessed this will be a multichap fic :)

Agony was but a mere inconvenience compared to what Spartacus felt. The spears that pierced him juddered with every shaking step he took, steps he would have not been able to take at all if it wasn't for Nasir and Agron buoying him up and spiriting him away from what should have been his final resting place. On and on they went, even when Agron stumbled and went to his knees, even when their breathing became labored, even when the ground rose beneath their feet and made their job ever harder they did not stop. 

Spartacus' head lolled forward. Spots filled his eyes, proceeding an encroaching darkness. Sura's voice called him from the afterlife, and for a moment he was filled with a peace that transcended all his pain and suffering, but as the darkness grew deeper his soul rebelled. 

He was not done yet!

#

Nasir slowed as Sparatcus' weight grew heavier on his shoulder. “Agron!” he yelled. His breath caught in his throat, hitching painfully.

“Do not stop!” Agron ordered. “We must get him to the others, where we can tend his wounds in safety.”

Nasir took a deep breath, but it did nothing to steady his heart or the stinging in his eyes. Agron's face was grim with determination, his teeth grinding, jaw clenched, as the bore Spartacus up into the mountain pass. Finally, they saw them. Camp had been made in a little sheltered valley, easily defensible due to the narrow passes either side. Laeta led a small group of the rebels towards them. She touched Sparatcus' face but he was unresponsive. Her eyes clouded with tears.

“Bring him to my tent, quickly,” she looked around “Sibyl! Assistance, please.”

Nasir grit his teeth and forced himself to give one last push of effort, Together, he and Agron got Spartacus safely to his tent..

“You need to remove the spears,” Laeta ordered.

Agron and Nasir started at each other, disbelieving. “If we do this he will die!” Agron snapped.

“What would you have me do?” Laeta screamed. “He is already dying!”

Nasir touched the scar under his ribs. “We will seal the wound as he sealed mine.” He pointed to another of the rebels who had been spared death in battle. “Kraynos! Place your blade in the fire.”

He handed his blade to Kraynos who placed it in the fire pit that warmed the tent along with his own.. While they waited for the blades to heat up Kraynos carefully cut the protruding ends of the spear under Nasir's direction, close to the skin while giving them just enough to grip to pull out the remains.

Sibyl handed them back their blades. Nasir tool a deep breath, remembering the pain from the sealing of his own wound which also had saved his live. “We must move swift and as one,” he directed Kraynos. “I will deal with the back of the wound, you the front. Be swift and steady, and no matter what his reaction you must not remove your blade until I say. Now is not the time for faint hearts.” He nodded to Laeta and Sibyl, who insisted on removing the remains of the spears. “Now!”

They painstakingly pulled the last section free, leaving a gaping hole through bone and flesh alike. Swiftly, Nasir and Kraynos pressed the red hot blades to the wound while Agron bore the brunt of Spartacus' weight. The stench of burning flesh filled the tent. The process was repeated with the second wound. With seared flesh tightly bound, they lay Spartacus down on his side so as not to put pressure on his wounds. Lying there, with hand placed under his bloodied cheek and faced smooth of concern, he seemed merely asleep. Agron knelt by his side, took the cloth Laeta held in her hand, and bathed his face.

“See to your own wounds,” Laeta said softly and took the cloth back. “I will tend to him.”

Agron shook his head. “I wish to be with my brother.”

“And you can be, once his eyes open and he is with us once more.” she glanced at Nasir. “Take him with you, see that he rests and eats.”

Nasir bristled at the brazen orders, especially as they came from the mouth of a high born Roman, but tensions were high and he would similarly lose all pleasantries if it were Agron wounded in the same way. He gave her a quick nod and knelt beside Agron. Without words they rose together, Agron's arm over Nasir's shoulder and left the tent. Agron held tight to him, his arm shaking. They spotted the familiar colors of their tent and slipped inside.

Agron slumped so badly that Nasir feared he had taken some unseen injury to his head. He sat Agron down upon the floor, quickly set up their bed, then directed Agron to lie down upon it. After checking him over and finding no obvious cause for his foggy headed state, Nasir rose to his feet and gave Agron a gentle kiss.

“Stay here,” he said softly. “I shall return.”

“You would leave me now?” Agron muttered once his back was turned. “When my heart is breaking and my soul weeps?”

Nasir chewed his lip. “We need to set watch on the passes and give news to the others. I shall return as soon as I can.”

“It is nothing but false hope you offer while he remains sleeping.”

“I would nourish their souls with the truth,” Nasir said, a sharp edge crept into his voice. “Spartacus is with us. Yes, he may yet succumb to injury but he is here, living, as am I, as are you. And even if the worst is visited upon us we are free, truly free, and soon to set upon path away from this land of piss and shit.“

“We are but the last few claws protecting a soft underbelly, too few.” Agron shook his head and wiped at his eyes. “I fear this is merely a delay of our fate than the victory we hope for.”

Nasir's chest contracted painfully at the sight of the tears on Agron's cheeks. He stepped closer and gently wiped them away with his thumb.

“Spartacus is strong. He endured so many wounds and the journey into this place and he still draws breath. Do not grieve prematurely. Come with me, we can be his eyes, ears, and voice while he recovers.”

Agron glared. “I will not be party to tour heartless endeavor to give hope when there is none nor your ploy to snatch power.”

The words stung but Nasir was well versed in wearing the unemotional mask he slipped on now. “If I am truly heartless then perhaps the blame lies with the one who ripped said heart from chest and trampled it under the feet of a fools march.”

He turned without waiting for a reply and left the tent.

#

It was an ache that finally drove the darkness back and allowed Spartacus, consciousness to slowly surface. He had no sense of self other than on the white hot areas under his left shoulder and on his right side. Some distant memory fed him images of the spears running him through, but he was laying upon something. That was impossible if the spears were still there.

Or perhaps not. 

As his consciousness fully returned, and with it full sensation, he realized he was curled on his side as if sleeping. Slowly he opened his eyes and attempted to speak. A face swam into view, a mix of color, light and shadow, and a voice spoke to him as if through water. He struggled to hear more than the undulation of accent but his head pounded and he closed his eyes to gather strength for further attempts. Blackness encroached once more.

His eyes once again opened. His vision had improved as had his hearing, and he managed a weak smile when Laeta appeared in front of him and reached to clasp her hand. She pressed a damp rag to his parched lips and spoke softly, telling him all that had befallen him since he had lost consciousness. He rolled to his back against Laeta's warnings, but the pain did not increase. It did not lessen either but it was at a level he could manage. Propped up and feeling as presentable as someone who had hours ago been close to death could, he summoned the men who had undoubtedly saved his life.

Agron was first to arrive, eyes red rimmed and face blotchy. Spartacus raised an arm as much as he could. Agron approached, knelt by his side, and took his hand tightly.

“I truly thought you gone from this world,” he whispered. He bowed until his forehead touched Spartacus' hand.

“Not this day,” Sparatcus said with a smile. “Gratitude to you and Nasir. Without you both I would have perished.” He glanced towards the tent flap. “Does he ignore my summons?”

Agron raised his head. “He had a mind to organize watch for the passes and offer hope to those that have none.”

Spartacus nodded. “A noble cause, and one sorely needed.” He opened his mouth to say more but the creak of the canvas stopped him.

Nasir stepped into the tent. Spartacus had seen that look upon his face before, when Naevia had given news of Agron, news that proved to be untrue. He reached is other hand towards Nasir who took it and knelt by his side.

“Tell me what thoughts burden you,” he said.

They avoided each others gaze, Nasir preferring to look at Spartacus when he forced a smile he did not feel. “Only sorrow at the death of so many I held dear.”

Spartacus nodded. “Do we know how many?”

“We are but a handful left, mostly those unable to fight.” he looked away, his eyes losing focus. “Perhaps more will come.”

“It is a possibility,” Agron added. “We fled when battle was still engaged.”

“We did not flee!” Nasir snapped. “We did what we must.”

“We still left the field while battle was engaged!”

Nasir snarled. “To aid Spartacus in fight against Crassus, which would have put an end to the war. I am not a seer, how as I to know path would lead to this.”

“You could not know,” Sparatucs said in attempt to diffuse the situation. “And you shall both be recognised for your valor. But first, I will have your reports of the last hours.”

Nasir was first to speak, delivering news of the camp. Those who could fight had been organized in watches on both passes. Those who could not were charged with tending wounds, seeing to setting up of camp, and finding food in the hills. When he finished Agron did not speak. Instead he gazed at the floor.

“Gratitude,” Spartacus said to Nasir when it was clear Agron had nothing to add. “And after all you have done it pains me to ask further of you, but I must until strength returns.”

Nasir nodded. “I have not done more than was required to keep peace.”

“And I would have you continue to keep it, if you are able? Both of you, together, be my eyes, ears, and voice until I can use them myself.”

Both men nodded. Spartacus bit his lip against a twinge of pain. “But I have one thing I would ask of you that is of upmost importance yet will be difficult for you to endure.”

“I will do it,” Nasir answered with barely a pause. “Speak your wish.”

Spartacus paused a moment. It was unfair to place such a weight on their shoulders, but he could not do it himself. “I wish for you to report from field of battle. If any of our number have been taken by the Romans we must liberate them once more.”

Nasir nodded. “None of our number will suffer the weight of shackles again.” He kissed the back of Spartacus' hand then rose. “I shall set to task without delay.”

He left. Agron rose to follow but Sparatcus held as tight as he could to his hand. Agron's grip remained loose, the damage to his palms affecting the fingers too.

“Something pains you as it does him,” he whispered. 

Agron gazed at him for a long moment before speaking. “We simply share the burden all of us do. We await news of our brothers and sisters.”

Spartacus nodded. “You mourn despite evidence of their loss?”

Agron laughed softly. “Have we not seen enough war to know what silence means?”

Spartacus weighed up his words in silence but the only answer that seemed fitting was to gently squeezes Agron's damaged hand. “Passing hours may still bring good news. In the meantime I would ask something of you alone if I may?”

“Anything.”

“You are the last remaining general of our rebel army, and until Gannicus staggers into tent, drunk with wine and fucking, I fear I must ask you to take on the work of us all.” He lifted his hand from Agron's with effort and placed it instead upon Agron's shoulder. “Use everything at your disposal, reports, your own observations, and your knowledge of our enemy and battle strategies. I would have a plan formed to see us through the mountains unscathed and I cannot wait until I am well enough to contribute knowledge.”

“I will work with you here for as long as you are able,” Agron said.

Spartacus smiled. “Have trust in yourself and Nasir. You have both proven yourself time and again, you need not have doubts of your worth now.”

Agron forced a smile in return. “I shall see this down and report to you by the morrow's eve.” He copied Nasir's gesture, bringing Spartacus' hand to his lip and kissing the back of it. “Rest, brother. We will not fail you.”

“The thought never crossed mind.”

With the tent empty, Spartacus closed his eyes. It was a terrible burden to place on the shoulders of men who seemed to be struggling already, but if he could take tasks himself he would have. He could barely lift arm never mind walk, and his brief conversations with Nasir and Agron had exhausted him. 

He sighed, letting the weary sleep of healing take him once more, and just before he slipped to the world of dreams he felt Laeta's presence beside him, a balm against frayed nerves and aching heart.


	2. Scouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nerves are fraying and cracks are forming between the remaining rebels, even those with strong bonds.

Healing was taking time, too much time. Spartacus forced himself to squeeze as much as he could into his sparse waking hours, and as a result often dropped into slumber without realizing. He had trust in Nasir and Agron to keep order in his absence but the absence of a leader at such a juncture could spell disaster for the uneasy cohabitation in the camp. People had seen too much death and blood to truly be comfortable while they waited just out of reach of Roman blades.

Laeta's presence, so comforting at first, began to grate on him. She would see him do nothing but lay upon his back and sleep, and the more he fought against it the more forceful she became until he began to dread her appearance before him. A deep revulsion grew in him for his souring affections, but perhaps his feelings before had simply been borne from the need of warmth in the night in what he thought were his last days.

Or maybe it wasn't simply Laeta that was causing such deep feelings of despair and revulsion. With each passing day news came from down the mountains, of names he knew intimately and ones he knew in passing, but each one a cut upon his flesh, a life he had not seen truly free, and then came the day, when it had finally been safe enough for Nasir and his band of scouts to get close enough to truly see what had been erected along the road.

Through everything they had endured, Nasir had been an unwavering soul, with strength enough to spare for those that needed theirs bolstered. Now, there was something in his eyes, a thing Sparatcus had grown to believe it would not be possible to see.

“What troubles you?” Spartacus asked.

It was look enough that Agron, who was with Spartacus and sharing news from the camp, rose to his feet and approached Nasir. He placed his large hand on Nasir' shoulder. “Speak. What horrors did you see?”

Nasir largely ignored them both. His dark eyes were trained on the floor of the tent. “Crosses, many hundreds of them. They line the road as far as eye can see.”

Spartacus' chest seemed as if, once again, struck by spear. “And who was upon those crosses?”

“Many I do not know by name but I know face from among our ranks.” Nasir swallowed thickly. “Gannicus was among them, Saxa too, and-” his voice caught in his throat - “and Naevia. We did not disturb them, fearing the Roman's would think to look for us nearby.”

“A wise choice, no matter how hard. Gratitude for risking life to bring news to us.” He smiled though it did not reach his eyes. “See to it that you and your fellows rest, eat, and take time to mourn.”

Nasir nodded and left the tent. Agron stared after him but did not move.

“Go,” Spartacus urged. “Give him comfort that only loving arms can bring.”

“I fear I am not such anymore,” Agron said softly, his eyes never leaving the tent flap.

Spartacus sighed. “Then perhaps now would be the time to make amends.”

Agron finally turned and sat once more by Spartacus' bed. “We have strategies to finalize.”

“You have lost mind,” Spartacus snapped. “Nasir suffers under the burden of what he saw, and you, who holds his heart, wish to discuss placement of sentries?”

“He does not wish my company. We no longer share sleeping space.”

“Then perhaps now would be perfect time to make amends,” Spartacus smiled. “Go. I require sleep.”

Agron reluctantly got up. “I shall return once you are rested.”

“See to warming your own bed than darkening the corner of mine,” Spartacus said softly. “You both need a moment with each other.”  
Agron paused for a moment, nodded thoughtfully, then left the tent.

#

Nasir slowly paced the camp. Images of what he had seen on the road would give him no peace, no matter what he did, so he kept to the noise and bustle, hoping to keep the worst of them at bay. His head swam unpleasantly and his stomach clamped painfully, but any smells of food around the camp brought waves of nausea. 

A hand landed on his shoulder. He turned and immediately dropped into a defensive stance. 

Agron held up his hands. “I meant no harm. I only wished to offer comfort.”

Nasir sighed. “Gratitude, but I am not in need of what you offer.” He turned to walk away but Agron gently help him in place. He sighed, refusing to yield to the calm that Agron's touch.

Agron spoke softly. “Then, may we talk? I wish to make amends?”

Nasir looked at him, searching Agron's face for any sign he mocked him, but the man looked as he felt. He gave a little nod then followed Agron back to the tent they had both shared. Tears pricked his eyes as he stepped into the familiar surroundings.

“I overstepped,” Agron said once they had as much privacy as the tent could offer. “And I am deeply sorry for it. I can only ask for your forgiveness.”

Nasir forced a smile. “If it were just one incident then perhaps that would be enough. I fear it is no longer possible to repair damage with simple words.”

Agron's face fell. “Then tell me what I must do.”

“It is not only you,” Nasir took his hand. “Too often I have found myself with harsh words for you.”

“What lovers do not fight?” Agron forced a laugh. “You would throw what we have away over a few moments of acid tongue?”

Nasir shook his head. “I do not wish to be without you, but by same token I cannot simply forget what has happened between us.” He took a deep breath and swallowed against the barbs in his throat. “I do not wish to blindly fall into your arms with problems unresolved.”

Agron placed his hands gently on Nasir's shoulder. “Let me comfort you now. We will have words, of that I make you a promise, but your grief is of more pressing concern.”

Nasir nodded and slowly slipped into Agron's embrace. He buried his face into his chest and sighed. The tears did not come, yet the familiar scent and feel of Agron close to him eased the pain a little. He clung to him, not wishing to let go of such a precious source of comfort, and closed his eyes.

#

Another night fell upon the camp. Nasir paced the narrow entryway into their mountain hideaway, keeping watch with the others. His lips bore the memory of Agron's kiss, sweet and gentle and without rush for other, more carnal delights. He smiled, remembering the rare quiet moment they had shared. Devoid of words they much needed to share yet were not quite ready to, their few scant hours together had been healing, proving that the simple pleasure of holding one another was still easily found.

His day dream was disturbed by the clatter of stones in the pass below. He dropped low and crawled to the edge so he could view the path. Suddenly, he sprang to his feet and rushed into the camp, ordering the guards to be vigilant as he left.  
Nasir stormed into Sparatcus' tent without warning and found the man awake. “We must away from here!” he shouted.

“Lower your voice,” Laeta commanded. “Would you rouse all?”

“Yes, I would rouse all and have them move, now!” Nasir snapped. “Roman scouts are in the mountains. They are small in number and have yet to discover the path that leads here, which is why we must move, before it's too late.”

Spartacus nodded. “Keep watch. We will move slowly, so as not to draw their attention.”

Nasir gave a brisk nod and left the tent once more.

#

Agron approachd the pass at the appointed time, ready to relieve Nasir of his watch. All around, people were packing up their meager belongings and breaking down the tents.

“Are we on the move?” he asked once he reached Nasir.

“There are Roman scouts in the foothills,” Nasir whispered. “We must move before they realize we are here.”

Agron snorted derisively. “And give up easily defensible position?”

Nasir frowned. “We are but too few claws, as you once said. It is a small number of scouts. If we move further into the mountains then the Romans may give up looking.”

“Or we may find ourselves strung out along narrow path or up to our cocks in snow.” Agron snorted a laugh. “Why did you not kill them?”

“I can only see a handful, yet I would not risk giving away our position by engaging in combat.”

“A man who knew anything of war would have loosed arrows.” Agron sneered.

A thick silence settled between them. Nasir's lip lifted in a snarl. “Then give the fucking order, Argon,” he hiss through his teeth. “I shall oversee the breakdown of camp.”

He turned and left without another word. Agron started to follow then changed his mind. With a few barked commands he had men ready by his side, each armed with a bow. Silentely, the arrows were loosed and arced up into the air before descending towards the scouts.

It was then that Agron saw the slowly approaching catapults.


	3. If I die here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The camp is under attack from Roman catapults and, while trying to flee, Nasir and Spartacus find themselves trapped in a gully on the mountainside, separated from the rest of the survivors

Agron ran. Behind him, the fighters he had gathered spread out to hurry the remaining members along. Agron finally found voice as he reached the center of the camp.

“Run!” He ordered. “Grab would you can and flee further into the mountains.”

A small voice told him it was a fools errand, the catapults would never reach so far. Another, slightly louder voice, said it was just the inevitable end, they were on borrowed time anyway. Luckily, the voice that wanted to preserve what little lives had made it thus far won out. He moved from tent to tent like a buzzing bee. Occasionally he tied the last straps to secure packs to someone's back but more often he was hurrying them along so they were out of range of the catapults. He finally found his way into Spartacus' tent.

“Catapults. Down in the valley!” He yelled. “We must move, now! Where is Nasir?”

Laeta and a few others busied around as the broke down camp. Spartacus did what he could from his bed. “He was in here for but a moment to report the scouts he had seen.”

Agron shook his head. “I must find him. Make haste!”

With his orders delivered he was gone.

#  
Spartacus summoned all his strength and managed to move from his bed under his own power for the first time since arriving in the mountains. Laeta was by his side in seconds.

“Do not order me back to bed, I beg you!” He said before she could speak. “I will not stand idle while we are under attack.”

“There is no attack yet. Save your strength fo-” her words were cut off by a loud bang outside. Screams erupted in its wake and smoke seeped through the flap of the tent. “We must go now!” Laeta screamed. 

Spartacus had no choice but to surrender himself to the others as they ushered him from the tent. The rebel that held him was just a little taller than he was, which made his wounds pull and contract as they ran with his arm over the rebel's shoulder. Another fireball found its mark close by them, kicking up dust, rocks, and human flesh before it finally came to rest. People flew past them, screaming and clutching at bloodied wounds. Children were dragged along by fleeing adults. The wounded supported by those that could still walk or at least hobble over the broken ground.

Nasir stood at the edge of the narrow path that led out of the camp and into the mountains, hurrying them on with a loud cry and a push. “Follow Agron and the others. Stick to the path. Be swift! Do not look back.” He reached for Spartacus and his companion as they got closer. “Run on! I will check if anyone is left.”

“No, Nasir. There is no one!” Spartacus yelled. “The fire is reaching the camp, you must move!”

Nasir paused for but a moment before running back the way they had came. Spartacus fought against the rebel to follow but he didn't have the strength to change his course. He couldn't put the other man's life in danger either.

More bangs and the echoes of cracking stone echoed in the mountains. Spartacus closed his eyes and tried to think of anything other than the possibility of Nasir wounded and dying in the camp. He needed all his strength to keep walking, to get away! Suddenly, someone slipped under his arm, buoying him up on his other side.

“Nasir!?” he cried out in shock.

“There is no one left and the Romans have not yet climbed the path,” he said hurriedly. “I destroyed what was left. They may not believe they have found a camp a--”

It all happened in the blink of an eye. The path disappeared beneath their feet and all the world was filled with dust and fire. The ground came up to meet them sharply and knocked the wind out of Spartacus' lungs. He reached out blindly, caught someone's hand, only to have them ripped away again as they rolled down the steep mountainside. Finally, his bruised and bleeding body came to rest in a gully. The sides were just high enough to prevent him rolling further and spindly shrubs provided some cover from the debris kicked up from the strike. 

Something heavy landed beside him. The heap moved then whined loudly. Bloodied hands clutched his arms.

“Spartacus?” Nasir said, his voice shaking.

“I'm here,” he replied.

“Thank the gods!” His grip tightened on Spartacus' arm. “Stay still. The path above is narrow. If the Roman's appear I will drag them to their deaths.”

“No!” Spartacus caught his arm as he tried to pull away. “Stay here, hidden. We cannot hope to defeat them.”

“What about the others?”

“They hit the path. With any luck they have cut themselves off.” Spartacus swallowed hard against his dry throat. “Find another way up and join them. Find your freedom.”

“I am not leaving you!”

“Go!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Do as I command.”

Nasir's face swam into view, suspended above him. Blood dripped from a gash in his forehead and a smaller cut ran along the opposite cheek. “I fought hard for my freedom, too hard for anyone, even you, to order me to leave a friend to die.”

Before Sparatcus could reply Nasir clamped his hand over his mouth and lay close, shielding him with his body. There were voices on the path above but, from the sounds of it, not right on top of them just yet. After a few moments of searching and kicking a few rocks down the cliff side the voices faded off once more.

Nasir remained closed to him, hand still clamped over his mouth, until silence surrounded them. “Stay,” he whispered. “I will find us a way out of here.”

Nasir moved around, little whines escaping him every so often as he manoeuvred his battered body away. Spartacus raised his head as much as he could, watching Nasir's assent, but he had barely cleared a few steps up the sheer side before he slipped and landed heavily upon his back. He tried again, further along the slope, with little success.

“Cease this madness,” Spartacus demanded. “I will not see you dash yourself upon these rocks. The others will find us.”

“It will be dark before long and who knows how long they will have to travel before they can make camp and realise we are gone.” Nasir gritted his teeth and forced himself up once more. “We need to leave here. We can walk some way along this gully if you are able?”

Spartacus nodded. With difficulty, Nasir pulled him to his feet. The path between the sides was narrow, causing them to stumble often. Nasir limped heavily on his right side but soldiered on without so much as a squeak to acknowledge it. Occasionally he attempted to climb up the steep cliff back to the path, which was a tantalisingly short distance about them, but try as he might could not reach the edge to pull himself up, and Spartacus knew that, even if that was a possibility, there was no way both of them would make it to the top. They didn't have the strength between them.

The path ran out before the daylight did. Spartacus huddled in the space created by three almost sheer walls and watched Nasir's increasingly desperate attempts to scale them. He let loose a frustrated roar and he slipped again, with his fingers a hairs breath from the edge, and crashed down into the gully. Spartacus grabbed his hand.

“Gather your strength for further attempt upon the morn,” he pleaded. “The night is drawing in. We must keep warm.”

Nasir nodded and settled next to Spartacus. His cloak, though ragged, torn, and bloody, was enough to wrap around both their backs, while the remains of the cloak that clung to Spartacus' frame covered completed the cocoon. The sky was a fiery red as the sun dipped below the horizon. He rested his head upon Nasir's shoulder. A great weight of sadness settled in his chest. Heavy enough to cause his breath to catch in his throat.

“Apologies,” he whispered. “I have dragged you and countless others to their deaths.”

“Do not say such things.” Nasir wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. “You gave us all more than we could ever hope for. Even those who perished along the way did so for a cause they chose to take up arms for.”

“And how many did so many sacrifices set free?”

“Even one makes it worthwhile.”

Spartacus sat silent for a moment as he digested his words. “When I first tore collar from your neck, is this how you envisioned your life?”

Nasir laughed softly. “My eyes were shrouded. I believed a life spent as a masters plaything was all I could hope for.”

“And perishing on a mountain so close to freedom is preferable?”

Nasir sighed. “I do not believe this is our end, but if it is, it is an honor to share these last moments with you. A man who tore the bonds of slavery from me with his own hands. Who trained me though I had made attempt on his life. A kind, compassionate man who has saved my life in more ways than I could ever hope to explain and who has strived relentlessly to free all who find themselves bound to other men in enforced servitude.” His voice softened. “I do not have the words to express gratitude for what you have done for me.”

Spartacus turned to look at Nasir, fearing he was joking with him, but his face showed no such thing. His eyes dropped from Spartacus' gaze to his lips and he worried his own between his teeth. Spartacus tensed a little as Nasir leaned in.

Their lips met.

At first, Spartacus did not know how to react, but as Nasir began to pull away all he knew was he didn't want him to. His fingers wound up into Nasir's thick, dark hair and held him close as Nasir's tongue slid into his mouth. His heart pounded in his chest. If he was to die this night then he was more than happy to pass this way.

Spartacus hissed suddenly as Nasir's hand caught a fresh bruise on his side. Nasir pulled back, confused, then realization crossed his face. “Apologies!” he stammered. “I do not know...” he shook his head, searching for words. 

A noise overheard drew their attention. Torches floated in the dark, traveling from the direction the rebels had fled. Nasir got to his feet. “We're here!” he shouted.  
The torches grew closer until the familiar faces of Agron and other rebels swung into view. “Fetch the ropes!” Agron shouted to someone in the darkness behind him.

As one end of the ropes tumbled down towards them and Nasir worked on fastening it around Spartacus' waist their eyes met. Do not speak of it, Spartacus wanted to beg but what right did he have to ask such a thing. Nasir would make things right with Agron however he saw fit and Spartacus would weather whatever came his way because of it.

“Gratitude,” he whispered. “You saved my life once more.”

All Nasir did was nod. Guilt was clearly gnawing away at him already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may not be happy with what transpired in this chapter and that's ok. I have many reasons why I do not like the idea of nagron after the final battle, some of which have been explored already in this fic, and the pairing i have introduced is one i really like the idea of. I cannot promise a nagron reunion as I currently have two ideas for how this will run, but i hope that doesn't ruin this story for people.


	4. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir is robbed of a chance to tell Agron something by a sleeping draft to help him fight off pain. Agron goes in search of answers. Surely knowing the truth can't be worse than what he is imagining.

It was painful in more ways than one. Now that the fight for survival was not surging through his system, Nasir's leg was making its presence felt in the form of shooting pains and an inability to put weight on his foot at all. Agron, being one of the tallest and strongest of the group, was already carrying Spartacus upon his back, but others fell in to help Nasir hobble along the narrow mountain path with barely enough torchlight to stop them slipping over the edge.

The physical pain was not the only thing he felt. His heart raced in his chest. Would Spartacus tell Agron? Spartacus was a noble man who had wronged a brother, but it wasn't his confession to make, was it? They were too far ahead through the darkness for Nasir to see their body language but there were no raised voices on the path. Spartacus would leave him to make the confession, he was sure of it.

A narrowing of the rock lip they walked along caused Nasir to catch his toes. He bit his lip so hard it bled but only a whimper escaped him as his whole leg throbbed. Those helping him, perhaps sensing his pain, hurried along what was left of the treacherous walkway until they found themselves in a deep, hidden valley.

There was no time to admire the new camp, not least because there was little light to see it by. Nasir insisted on being brought to his tent straight away, or at least somewhere he could sit to take the weight off his injured leg. Luckily, his tent was among the ones set up by those that had not journeyed on the rescue attempt. Nasir waited, with teeth worrying his lip, until his rescuers had left in search of someone or something that could help and then could hold on no longer. 

Tears fell from his eyes, started by the pain in his leg that he tried so hard to hide and spurred on by guilt and grief and every little scrap of emotion he had barely acknowledged before forcing down. He buried his face in the bedding and tried to hide the sound of his sobs but he was found, as he knew he would be.

“Where are those that brought you here?” Agron roared. He gently petted Nasir's hair despite his angry words. “Why have they left you like this?”

“They go to find help,” Nasir murmured through his tears. He reached out and grabbed Agron's hand in both of his. He tried to speak, beg Agron to stay, but his voice failed him.

Whether he understood what Nasir needed or not, Agron gently gathered him into his arms, carefully moving him so as not to jar his leg or any other possible injuries. Nasir burrowed his face into the curve between Agron's neck and shoulder and sighed as he fought to bring his sobs under control.

Help arrived too quickly, and Nasir found himself separated from Agron as a few of the rescued slaves who had a passing understanding of medical matters looked him over. He kept his eyes upon his lover, who paced at the door of the tent, his narrowed eyes watching every move the others made. A tightness in his jaw and a shine in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. There was no anger there for these people who were trying their best to help, just fear they could not.

Finally, after enduring painful manipulations on his ankle, one of the rebels handed Nasir a cup.

“Drink this,” she said. “It will taste foul but it will make you sleep through the pain. You should feel better upon the morn.”

“Gratitude,” Nasir said softly, his voice hoarse from pained cries. He drank it down valiantly, though he choked on the acrid taste and retched. When it was all gone he handed the cup back to the woman and lay down on his side. It had been a long day, and pain or no pain he was ready for the comforting embrace of sleep to end it.

The bed dipped and Nasir opened his eyes once more as Agron lay beside him. “I feared I had lost you today,” he whispered. “And it was all the more terrible because our last words were acid in nature.”

Nasir forced a smile. “Fault is not with you. It is with us both and I fear I have done something to sour things further.” A yawn surprised him. Was the concoction really working so quickly?

“What?” Agron said. He played with Nasir's hair, wrapping and unwrapping a strand of it around his fingers. “Speak. There is nothing you could say that would turn me from you.”

“I fear my words may change that.” Nasir's tongue was slow and hard to control. Tears fell once more from his eyes. “Spartacus...”

#

Agron waited but Nasir never finished his sentence. His eyes remained half open, tears still on his long eyelashes, but his breathing took on the deep qualities of sleep. Never had Agron witnessed a sleeping draft work so quickly. He shook Nasir's shoulder but he man never stirred. There was not even the tiniest flicker of his eyelids.

“Spartacus what?” Agron whispered. He wiped the remains of Nasir's tears away with his thumb even has his heart sunk at the thought of what had vexed Nasir so.

He got up from the bed and, slowly so as not to jolt Nasir painfully out of sleep, undressed him and cleaned the dirt, blood, and ash from his skin. Afterwards, Agron laid the blankets over him but hesitated at lying back down. The thoughts in his head displeased him. Spartacus would not have hurt Nasir. He had trained him in the beginning after vouching for his very life. They had a tight bond, forged through battle and heartache and all the pain they had gone through. No, the idea of Spartacus harming Nasir was as alien as the sun rising in the west.

So what had passed between them when they were alone? What would be enough to cause Nasir so much pain that he had actually cried over it and feared Agron leaving him?

All he had to do was wait. Nasir would remember in the morning and would tell him them. Knowing the way Nasir took guilt to heart it was likely to be entirely nothing and yet...

No, It was stupid to torture himself when he would have his answer easily. All he had to do was sleep beside his lover, who had never wronged him or harmed him despite their recent arguments, and trust that, whatever he had to say, it was something they could work through. And yet he still did not lie down, his feet still moved him toward the door, and he still ended up standing outside Spartacus' tent. Agron hesitated once more. He should allow Nasir to tell him as he had planned to do before the sleeping draft robbed him of consciousness. 

Agron stepped inside.

Spartacus looked up and smiled. “Agron? The hour is late. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Agron struggled for words and dropped his gaze. “Nasir mentioned something had happened this night, something he wanted to tell me but sleep robbed him of the chance. He mentioned your name.” He looked up expecting to see a smile on Spartacus' lips and prepared himself to hear a simple explanation, but he got no such thing.

“Go to him,” Spartacus said softly. “You have half an explanation and all the worries and he will assuage them when he wakes.”

“I would rather hear the words from your own mouth,” Agron said firmly. Something in Spartacus' expression turned his blood to ice. “Speak.”

“You will not raise such tone with me,” Spartacus snapped.

Agron laughed derisively. “Your actions thus far have proven that there is something I should know, something worse than I first feared when words fell from Nasir's lips. This is not a petty squabble between general and leader, this is a matter of honor between men! Between brothers! I will have answers, now.”

An unseen rebel stepped out from further back in the tent but Spartacus waved them off. “Leave us,” Spartacus said. “Agron and I have words that need to be shared.” He looked directly into Agron's eyes but the anger that should have been there was absent in the wake of something far worse.

The rebel left quickly but the silence lingered on behind him. The longer it stretched out, the tighter Agron's stomach knotted up. He knew already without either of them saying anything exactly what had happened. How could it be anything else?

And yet, when Spartacus finally told him it was much worse than he thought.

#

Nasir woke up with a start and clawed his way out of the last tendrils of nightmarish visions of fire and charred flesh. The tent was empty and by the looks of it Agron had not slept there, or at least had not left any sign behind. His heart sank. He needed to find Agron.

Nasir eased himself out of bed and gingerly placed his damaged foot on the floor. He could stand at least, though he could only place the ball of his foot on the floor. Improvising, he grabbed one of his spears to use as a stick, got dressed, and made his way out of the tent.

The new camp was nestled in between high valley walls, a nightmare from a defense standpoint, but at least the paths leading in were narrow. The rebels seemed to be settling in quickly and, thankfully, their numbers didn't seem to have dwindled too much after the attack. Nasir passed quick words with whoever spoke to him or wished him well, but his mind was on other matters, important matters, and he finally found the person he was looking for near the edge of the camp, overseeing the blocking of the narrow paths.

“Agron,” he said as warmly as he could with matter weighing on his mind. “I would break words.”

Agron turned quickly and lashed out. Nasir hit the ground before the pain from the punch registered. Agron loomed into view above him.

“Fucking Syrian,” he spat. He glared at Nasir for a moment more before walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snapping does not make someone a bad guy. There is not a single one of the three of them that is showering themselves in glory right now, lol.
> 
> anyway, this is just a short chapter. I had planned on drawing out Agron not knowing, but Nasir would definitely tell him, as would Spartacus


	5. Unforgivable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the kiss

The rebels scrambled out of the way as Agron stalked through with Nasir running as fast as he could on his injured leg behind him. Agron refused to turn. Anger warred with the deep ache in his chest and his eyes stung with impending tears. He would not give Nasir or anyone else the satisfaction of witnessing him break.

“Agron!” Nasir yelled. “Let me speak!”

“Share whatever words you have with Spartacus and do not darken my day with your fucking presence anymore,” he snarled over his shoulder. He didn't miss a step and carried on towards his tent.

Once inside, Agron collected up what possessions were Nasir's alone and bundled them up in one of the blankets from the bed. He turned and tossed them towards the tent flap and caught Nasir in the chest as he entered.

“Do not do this, Agron,” Nasir pleaded. “I have wronged you deeply and I cannot truly explain why such a thing happened but I beg you for a chance to right things.”

“Spartacus stands a brother!”Agron roared. “Perhaps, with anyone else, forgiveness would be not long coming given the circumstances, but Spartacus!”

“I did not intend for this to happen, with anyone!” Nasir shouted back. “It was a moment born from despair, grief, and thoughts of death!”

Iron chains tightened painfully around Agron's heart. “You thought you would die?”

Tears welled up in Nasir's eyes. “I thought he would, wounded as he is and facing a night out in the elements.” He shook his head. “I cannot truly explain why I kissed him but it was not passion, not like what we share. There was no room for such a thing out there!”

Agron snorted a laugh. “And what about any other time, in a warmer, more secluded place?”

Nasir hesitated. His eyes drifted to his feet before he met Agron's eyes once more. “I hold no love for Spartacus. He is a brother and that is as far as our connection goes.”

Agron chewed his lip and took a deep breath to hold his own tears back. “You have wounded me, Nasir. Cut far deeper than the nails through my hands or any other wound. I know I have wronged you too, especially in recent days, and if that is your reason for su--”

“No! It was not my intention to hurt you. It never has been!” Nasir yelled.

Agron waved his hand dismissing the explanation. “We have not lain together since before I came back to Spartacus' camp. I left you and assumed things would return to how they were when I came back, if I ever returned. We have fought more often than gentle words have passed between us. Perhaps what we have has run its course?”

The change in Nasir was immediate. His emotions cooled and slid behind a calm mask but tears trickled down his cheeks all the same. “If that is how you really feel then I will respect your wishes, but know that I do not leave with thoughts of anyone else in my heart. You hold it still.”

Agron weighed his next words for a moment before speaking. “He told me he harbors feelings for you and that he was sorry for allowing them to spill over onto forbidden ground. He blames himself for the kiss.”

Nasir's face remained impassive. “I do not harbor such for him. I admire the man and I owe him a debt for the life I now have, like all of us do, but there is nothing more.” His shoulders tensed. “The kiss was a mutual thing. I do not remember who first moved but we both participated. I will not allow Spartacus to take responsibility for me.”

With a nod, Agron turned away, hiding his emotions from Nasir. “Go, please. I cannot...” he trailed off as his voice cracked.

Nasir remained for a moment, his presence heavy behind Agron. “Apologies,” he whispered. “I have wounded you deeply. My heart breaks for the pain I have caused you.” Canvas rubbed against canvas as Nasir left the tent.

Agron held on for as long as he could before falling to his knees. Sobs gripped him, shaking his body painfully. He tried to bring happier images into his head or just any image to dislodge the one of Nasir and Spartacus locked together in carnal activities they had not even engaged in, but the mind was a cruel thing and he was forced to endure his personal nightmare until there was no more tears to cry and exhaustion bore him away to a dreamless half sleep.

#

Not touching food all day, especially when one was so badly injured, did not go unnoticed. Despite the people that flitted around him in various states of worry Spartacus could not eat anything. His stomach was full of knots. His heart raced every so often as the thoughts began once more in his brain. No matter what he did he could not shake them.

What had driven him to say such a thing to Agron? A man he held dear, closer than blood siblings and any friend still living. Telling him of the kiss was needed, though words had spilled from his own lips on the belief Nasir had told him first but everything else?

He looked up as the tent flap moved and came face to face with Nasir. His right eye was bruised and swollen and he limped badly, but his face was as fierce as ever. For once, Sparatcus felt the fear of such a look being directed at him.

“Leave us,” Nasir snapped.

The small amount of rebels who were tending to Spartacus scurried out immediately leaving them alone. Spartacus opened his mouth to speak but Nasir's glare stopped him.

“You told Agron you harbor feelings for me?” Nasir said. His voice was steady but his body shook and he clutched the bundle in his arms tighter.

“I did,” Spartacus said. 

“Why?” Nasir roared. “Do you expect me to fall into your bed now that Agron and I are separated?”

Spartacus stared wide eyed. “It.... it was not my intention to cause such a thing! I sought only to take blame for the kiss and save you from unwarranted punishment.”

“You made things worse!” Nasir snarled. “You hurt Agron far more than there was need for with needless lies. What did you think would happen by saying something like that?”

Silence hung heavy in the air. No matter how hard he tried Spartacus couldn't think of a single word to say.

“Agron is my heart,” Nasir said, his voice cracking as his eyes welled up. “And I made a terrible mistake for reasons I do not know.” He bit his lip and his gaze fell to the floor. “I do not love you, Spartacus.”

“I know,” Spartacus whispered. “And my own admission was an error borne from good intentions. I sought merely to draw Agron's wrath fully towards me.”

Nasir nodded and his shoulders sagged. “Gratitude but there was no need. It was me who caused all this and the punishment is what I deserve.”

“Give him time,” Spartacus said and forced a smile. “He is hurting, as are you, but tempers will cool.”

“Perhaps not.” Nasir sighed heavily. “And I would not blame him if that was the case. Especially after what you told him.” With a shake of his head Nasir left the tent.

Spartacus paused, arm outstretched and words dying on his lips. As much as he wanted Nasir to remain with him he probably needed time to digest all that had happened. Not only that but it was probably not the best idea for Nasir and Spartacus to be seen together so soon after their kiss, especially when Spartacus had not been entirely truthful with Nasir.

He had not know his feelings for Nasir were of a romantic nature at first, perhaps they weren't, but the courage and spirit Nasir had shown in making attempt on his life had sparked something in him that went beyond mere admiration. There had been a moment between them, out in the forest while Nasir's life dripped from him when, with foreheads pressed together, Spartacus had thought he had seen something in Nasir's eyes. Perhaps if death had not seemed imminent then it would have been he and Nasir that had shared a kissed and eventually fallen for one another, but as it stood it was Agron who had kissed him first and Nasir had reciprocated those feelings.

They were his closest friends, they were deeply in love, and no matter how Spartacus tried to justify his confession to Agron there was a part of him that knew he had told of his feelings for Nasir in the vain belief that the one kiss they had shared meant Nasir's heart had turned from Agron.

It was cruel. It was unforgivable. And with each day left to him he would work on undoing the wrong he had caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not all that happy with this chapter or the last one but I know what I'm doing here on out so I'm sticking it out :)
> 
> Not much else to say on this really lol


	6. Break Important Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron is in turmoil. The anger he felt has cooled into a deep sadness. he needs to talk to Nasir now that he is calm and perhaps finally get answers about what happened between him and Spartacus.

Agron tried as best he could to remain strong in the face of his pain but tears found him more often than not and this night, two weeks after their separation, was no different. He laid his hand on the side of the makeshift bed where Nasir had slept. It was cold, Agron couldn't bring himself to lie there even if his scent had long since gone from everything in the tent, bed included.

He hid his face in the pillow and wept. Anger had left him by the end of the first week, when it became clear that Nasir had no intention of running into Spartacus' or anyone else's arms. Now, just the pain remained, a wound that was opened anew every time he saw Nasir across the camp.

The thought crossed his mind again. That he and Nasir could be together again. All he had to do was say the words and Nasir would fall back into his arms without hesitation. It had been a mistake after all, and one borne from a situation where neither knew if they would live or die. Knowledge of a closeness between them was not new. Spartacus had trained Nasir with his own hand, had saved his life with quick thinking when a Roman solider had ran him through with a blade. If Nasir had wanted to be with Spartacus he could have been from that moment, but he hadn't, he had never shown any interest in the man beyond that of a friend.

But perhaps that was all because Agron had simply kissed him first?

He had never asked Nasir how he felt. They had just fallen into their relationship without breaking words on the subject. But Nasir never seemed unhappy or forced into anything. In fact, it had been Nasir who had forged forward into new territories of intimacy between them. He did not have the same way with words that Agron did but his actions had been enough. He loved Agron as much as Agron loved him. But, if he loved him why had he kissed Spartacus? It was no chaste kiss between close friends. Both had admitted such.

Agron wiped at his face but more tears fell. He had been having the same cyclical conversation with himself since becoming calm enough to think about it all and he still couldn't think of an answer. The only true way to know was to do what scared him the most. Ask Nasir.

By the time the sun rose Agron had been over everything in his head so many times but still reached the same conclusion. He had to speak with Nasir and as calmly as he could. Once he had the answers he wanted he could decide on his next move.

Agron dressed and sought out his former lover, there was no point in wasting more time. He found Nasir near the edge of the camp discussing things in hushed voices with his team of scouts. He turned, as if sensing Agron's presence and the tension in his shoulders almost brought tears to Agron's eyes once more.

“I would break words if you have a moment,” he said.

Nasir nodded after a brief pause. “I will set my men to their tasks and will join you presently.”

Agron nodded and wandered far enough away that he wasn't listening in to the discussions between the scouts. Nasir kept his word and joined Agron as soon as the scouts had left on their daily duties.

“You wished to speak to me?”

Agron bit back his objection to the clipped words and forced civility. How else was one supposed to speak to an ex lover? “I would engage in conversation in a more private place.”

“There is none in a village built with canvas and ever twitching ears,” Nasir grumbled. “But I know a place.”

Agron followed Nasir out of the village and along a small path in the mountains. He still limped on the ankle injured in his rescue of Spartacus and his eyes bore telltale dark rings. His whole posture seemed broken, weary, almost as if he had shrank back into the man he was when first liberated from the villa. Eventually Nasir came to a halt as the path suddenly ended and opened up on a small ridge.

Agron hung back from the edge. It was a long way to the valley below. “How did you discover this place.”

“I am a scout. It is my job to find these places.” Nasir crouched down near the edge. “This is an excellent vantage point.”

Agron fought the urge to pull him back from the edge. “It does seem a remote place.”

“Perfect for breaking heavy words from those with wounded hearts.” Nasir stood and moved back away from the edge. “What did you wish to discuss.”

Agron took a deep breath and steadied his resolve. “Spartacus.”

Nasir shook his head. “I do not have anything to say on the matter. He means nothing to me.”

“Are you often in the habit of kissing those whom you care nothing for?” Agron asked and fought hard to keep the bile out of his voice.

A cold gaze met his. “I was a body slave. I am used to doing much more with those I not only feel nothing for but am repulsed by.”

“Spartacus did not force you though, did he?”

Nasir shook his head immediately. “But if you are looking for reasons why such a thing happened I am afraid I cannot answer. I have given many sleepless nights to analyzing such behavior and I have no words.”

Agron sighed. “It would be easier if you did harbor feelings for him. I could understand falling in love with such a man.”

“I have not,” Nasir said firmly. “I have admiration for him and the same love I have for brothers known as long but he has never held my heart. Only you have.”

Agron snorted a laugh. “I cast it aside when I left to follow Crixus, just as you said, and things have not been easy for us since then. I am not mad anymore, Nasir. I simply wish to know the truth.”

Nasir leaned back against the rough stone of the cliff. “You wish for an answer you believe to be true. That I, stinging from our fights and lack of loving touch sought out another. You seek a reason to blame your hands, and by extension the Romans who injured you for everything that has gone wrong. In truth it was a mistake I made for reasons I do not know.” Nasir folded his arms over his chest. “Perhaps I did desire him in that moment but it was that moment only and I do not desire him now and I haven't since that moment.”

Agron gritted his teeth against the sudden pain in his chest. “You know he desires you, why have you not gone to him?”

“Have you not listened to the words I have said?” Nasir snapped. “I do not desire Spartacus. There is but one man I desire and he stands before me now.”

“Still? After everything that has happened?”

Nasir looked out over the valley. His lip trembled. “Always. And though you did break my heart when you left to follow Crixus and though we have fought upon occasion it is I who caused the biggest hurt to us.” he laughed bitterly. “I wish I could give you solace in a reason. I wish it could say it was a final gift to a dying man or the product of desire but, in truth, I do not know. All I remember from that time was the need to give him some form of comfort.”

Agron nodded. The news rested heavy in his chest and yet he pressed on with his questioning. “If we had not found you both when we did would you have lain with him?”

Nasir was silent for a long moment. Agron fought the sting of tears and the rising growl in his throat that wanted to demand an answer.

“I don't know,” he whispered. He worried his bottom lip in his teeth until it bled. 

Rage burned in Agron once more. “And yet you say you have no desire for him.”

“I do not! If it is known he desires me and you have cast me aside what would there be to stop be going to his bed if I wished to be there?”

“The thought of hurting me further?”

Nasir nodded. “I would not wish to hurt you further, you are right, but that is not my motivation. Whatever I felt for Spartacus that night does not reside in me now and, quite frankly, Agron, you can believe me or not. The outcome is the same, is it not?”

Agron took a step towards him. “I wish to know truth because, if we were to become lovers again, I do not wish to be wondering when you will leave me for him.”

A bitter laugh fell from Nasir's lips. “If you truly fear I would at any moment leave you for anyone else then why contemplate taking me to your bed ever again?” He squeezed past Agron and left him on the ridge.

#

He was trembling.

Two days had passed since his conversation with Agron and still the worlds filled his head at every moment, filling him with more rage and sadness than he had felt in his life.

Agron did not trust him, but with good reason. And yet Nasir could not make up a lie to soothe battered heart, no matter how well intentioned. If there was any chance of them building anew their foundations had to be strong.

He saw Agron occasionally but his ex lover never held his gaze for long and occupied the same space for an even shorter time. Agron was lost to him for good and the revelation cut through him worse than the Roman blade that had tried to claim his life.

There was nothing stopping him going to Spartacus now if he truly wished to, and in his darkest hours when the pain brought hot tears and chocking sobs he considered crawling into the bed of someone who still held him warm in their heart, but despite knowing it had only been Spartacus' pain that had prevented further carnal activities on that night, Nasir could muster no desire for him. 

It was not lack of desire, nor was it denial to punish himself. He dreamed often of Agron's arms around him. Of his powerful body between his thighs and cock moving deep within him. He only grew hard at the thought of one man and only one name was on his lips when he brought himself to completion and it was the one man he could never have again. But it wasn't just the sex he missed, it was the safety found in Agron's embrace and the words that so easily fell from his lips that were full of love and devotion. It was the sheer joy of being in Agron's company when they were doing nothing at all.

Was there any way to make it right? He had to make it right.

As if summoned by his thoughts Agron appeared in the door of the tent. His chest heaved as if he had been running. “I do not fear such a thing,” he blurted out.

“Do not fear what?”

“That you would leave me for Spartacus,” Agron spat the name as if it had a bad taste. “Or any other who should make attempt.”

Nasir refused to let hope blossom. “And why this change of heart?”

“Fear governed me.” Agron slowly stepped closer. “Fear of a pain greater than already experienced and I clung to that fear despite evidence before me. As you said you could have gone to him but you have not. You break what words you must with him and nothing more.”

Nasir bristled at the implied spying. “Our friendship suffered irreparably when he jeopardized what you and I have with misplaced words.”

Agron stopped a few paces away. “He did not mean the harm he caused. He sought to push blame from you.”

“And made things worse,” Nasir snapped.

“You truly do not know what motivated your actions that night?”

Nasir snarled, ready to shout that he did not, but he softened his voice. “It is lost to me now.”

“Then, perhaps it is stupid to punish you still for such actions.”

Nasir fell silent. His heart raced in his chest. Agron wasn't saying what he thought he was. He couldn't be!

“It was a mistake,” Agron continued. “And while mine was not of the same nature, I too made mistakes that hurt you, and you welcomed me with open arms and loving touch.”

“They are not the same,” Nasir said. “I betrayed you.”

“And yet you have had ample opportunity to follow through on your betrayal and have not.” Agron took another tentative step forward. “Happiness is such a scare commodity. I no longer wish to be apart from mine.”

A sob burst forth from Nasir's throat before he could stop it. He covered his face with his hands and wept. Agron's arms slowly wrapped around him and pulled him in against his chest. Nasir sank gratefully into the familiar warmth of his skin and the scent of him. After a moment he pulled away to look Agron in the eye.

“I have never wanted anything more in all my life than to hold you once more,” he whispered through his tears.

Agron's own eyes were brimming above his bright smile. “Nor have I. Separation from my heart has been a torture worse than anything the Romans did.”

Nasir sobbed anew. “And I was the cause of such pain.”

“Hush,” Agron soothed. “A mistake was made in a difficult time full of pain and loss for all of us. Whatever motivated such actions at the time has left you and I can no longer, in good conscience, punish you for it.” He slid his hand into Nasir's hair and cradled the back of his head. “May I kiss you, my heart, and begin our healing?”

Nasir nodded and closed his eyes as their lips met. He tasted all the sweeter for the absence.

There were many things that needed to be said but they could wait. Nasir was back where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the comments including the ones where people have made it clear that they do not like the breaking up of Nagron. I know it is not a popular way for a story to go but I have something i want to explore in this story and all I will say is don't get to comfy with what has happened in this chapter. we are far from the end.
> 
> I am a big fan of Nagron but we are dealing with people who have been through slavery, war, loss, and in some cases torture. it would not be as simple as walking into the sunset with your love and living out your days happy.


End file.
